Lost And Found
by cate's corner
Summary: A missing scene tag to Tabula Rasa. Evan and John have "the talk" that we didn't see in the episode.


Lost And Found by catescorner

Yes, I'm here again, with yet another missing scene. This one follows the events in Tabula Rasa, another of my favourites Lorne episodes, but one that still left me a bit frustrated.

As it ends, Teyla tells John that Evan 'felt badly' about what had happened - but we never saw that talk take place. So here are my thoughts on how that conversation might have gone, if TPTB had had the screen time to include it.

Again, I've used a bit of licence with Evan's background, that I hope still fits in with the one we saw in the series. I hope you enjoy!

Lost And Found

02:20. A time when people on Atlantis were either sleeping in their quarters, or working quietly in their labs. The only signs of movement were security teams, making their routine patrols around the city.

John Sheppard was still up too. And he wouldn't sleep until he'd completed a more personal mission. Teyla had told him that Evan Lorne was upset by what had happened, and needed to talk it through, which was worrying enough. First, though, he had to find him.

There'd been no answer at Lorne's quarters, and no sign of him in his office. But Coughlin had reported seeing him near the mess hall, and that's where his search for his troubled XO finally ended. Through its doors, he could see him now – standing alone on its balcony, staring out into the sky.

His mission partly accomplished, John felt himself smile. Yep, should have known he'd be out here. And he knew what Evan Lorne would be doing too, long before he came to stand beside him. But then he saw the strain in his XO's eyes. Guilt that didn't belong there, and his smile faded.

Three years younger than his commanding officer, Lorne currently looked several years older. Guilt and self recrimination for what he'd done, albeit unknowingly, weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Now John needed to lift that burden. Turn guilt and self doubt back into unflappable reliability. First, though, he had to find some common ground. Luckily, it was already there, right in front of him.

"Great night for sketching, Major," he said at last, nodding to the small sketchpad in Evan's hand. "Clear skies, all four moons… that Milky Way thing over the city. Gonna make a great picture."

He'd hoped for a smile. The enthusiasm for a talent that his XO had only recently revealed. Instead, Evan just shrugged. More worryingly, he sounded tired, defeated, as the pad flipped shut.

"Yeah, I guess."

Okay, so plan A wasn't off to a good start. Still, John Sheppard was nothing if not persistent. He'd go to hell and back for a friend in trouble. And Evan Lorne _was_ a friend. A friend who'd done the same for him, more times than John could count.

Just like his CO, he'd take the direct approach, every time, to every problem. Actions over words. Luckily for John Sheppard, that pretty much tied in with plan B. Good old fashioned straight talk.

"I'm sorry, sir. For such simple orders, I really screwed them up."

Assuming, of course, that his XO didn't beat him to it. But now that he had, John felt slightly happier. The barriers had come down again, giving him the chance to reach the troubled friend inside.

"No, you didn't, Major. And you're being way too hard on yourself," he said at last – knowing from the face that Lorne pulled in response that his XO wasn't quite ready to believe him. Thank God he had such a stubborn streak. John had the weary feeling that he was going to need it.

"Hey, I was acting kinda screwy too, remember? We _all_ were."

"Yeah, but _you_ didn't go running round the city, blasting anyone that moved," Evan shot back – turning away to stare out across the water, and so missing the approving smile on John's face.

So that was it. This was the reason why his XO had taken himself on this unjustified guilt trip. Nothing riled his unflappable second more than the thought of failing the people he cared about.

He had nothing to be sorry for, of course, but… well, Lorne still couldn't see it that way. In his eyes, he'd let his CO, and his friends, down. He wouldn't rest until he'd regained their trust.

Time to up the ante, John decided, and make the most of this opening that Evan had given him.

"Have you talked this out with Teyla?"

Two startled blue eyes told him he'd scored a direct hit. So did the quiet reply that eventually followed

"Yeah, she's… um… been more gracious about it that I deserved her to be."

"Or maybe she's telling you the same thing I am," John pointed out, gently shaking his shoulder, and breathing a sigh of relief that his hand was allowed to stay there, through what he said next. "She knows you, Evan. The _real_ you. And she doesn't blame you for what happened. Neither do I."

There was a spark of interest in Lorne's eyes now. And John knew just how to kindle it fully alight.

"And if it makes you feel any better, Ronon had to zap _me_ too"

That won him a trace of a smile, and a promising flash of the dry humour that both of them shared.

"Yeah, I think sometimes he enjoys that a bit _too_ much"

A master of making the most of every advantage, John Sheppard took this one with greatest pleasure.

"You want to tell him that?"

The smile was deep enough this time for dimples to appear. Better still, it had reached Lorne's eyes. And best of all, that sense of humour returned, full force, in a deadpan retort that was pure Evan Lorne.

"Only from another galaxy."

Laughing too, John nodded, lightly bumping his shoulder as they stared up into the moonlit stars. They still had a lot to talk about, but at least they were talking now under clearer, and lighter, skies.

03:10. And two companionably huddled figures still stood outside their city, studying the stars. Mirroring their friendship, their postures were identical – leaning on their arms against the balcony. And to John Sheppard's surprise, he had more in common with his XO than he originally thought.

They both played guitar. They loved funfairs, especially the adrenalin rush of a _real_ rollercoaster. The biggest surprise, though, came from a childhood achievement that, in all honesty, John hadn't expected.

"You were high school quarterback?"

"Yeah, for the year we won State," Evan nodded through a proud smile that uncannily read his CO's thoughts. "I was pretty skinny then, not exactly built to be a QB, but I was fast too, and… well, I don't think our opponents expected that."

"Yeah, I bet," John chuckled, regarding his second in command through brotherly proud eyes. What Evan Lorne lacked in height, he more than made up for in strength, courage, and unyielding determination.

He could just picture his friend on that football field, as full of those qualities then as he was now. Progression to college, and NFL stardom, could have easily followed, but… well, fate had intervened. And John could tell, from the soft sigh and bowed head beside him, that Evan had remembered it too.

Those dreams had been cruelly dashed when his father had recklessly gambled away their savings – more or less forcing him into the Air Force, who had trained him to fly while they paid for the degree he'd set his heart to complete. That expertise in geology had led him to the SGC – and, from there, his reassignment to Atlantis.

Since then, he'd proven himself with effortless ease, taking on his new role as if he'd been born to it. Aside from that little 'incident' in the crew's atrium, that they had already resolved, he hadn't put a foot wrong. Until now, and… say what?

"It felt kinda hollow, though. I only made the team because our star 'back got hooked on steroids."

Pulled out of his reverie, John stared at his friend, then winced as he realized what he'd said. Damn, he'd forgotten about that. Those stimulants had wreaked havoc on Evan Lorne's judgment. Determined to keep his memory intact to keep Atlantis safe, he'd taken more of them than anyone else – and John could only imagine what he'd gone through, as he struggled through their withdrawal.

Even now, he still looked gaunt – tired eyes merely hinting at the pain that only _he_ had suffered. He could see something else, too, in those expressive depths. Something he did _not_ want to see, and sure as hell didn't want to accept.

Determined to do all he could to avoid it, John placed his hand back onto Evan's shoulder – keeping it there, offering support for the painful admission that his XO was struggling to confront.

"Just as you got caught on those stimulants?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Evan replied just as quietly, swallowing hard, before re-meeting John's eyes. "I - I lost it back there, sir. I was totally out of control, and… well, if you want me to stand down-"

John's heart fell through his boots, his earlier dread confirmed. Damn it, there it was. The decision that Evan Lorne's sense of duty had forced him to make. If he was expecting John Sheppard to accept it, though… well, he now found vehemently otherwise.

"Like hell I do!"

Realizing he'd reacted more sharply than intended, John took a deep breath, calming himself down – giving Evan's shoulder another heartening squeeze to make up for the flinch he'd just sent through it.

"Look, Evan, I know those stimulants messed you up, and affected your judgment…" he said at last, turning his friend around so that he was left, in no doubt whatsoever, that he meant business. "But it was a _temporary_ thing, okay? And I will _not_ let you fall on your sword because of it. I gave you orders to protect the people on this base. As far as _I_'_m_ concerned, you followed them."

It was a brave soul, on Atlantis or otherwise, who argued against _that_ tone of John Sheppard's voice. So it was little wonder that Evan Lorne kept quiet, and let his incredulous expression do it for him – his eyes widening, in genuine surprise, for the words that he'd needed, but not expected, to hear.

"I don't _want_ another second in command, and I sure as hell don't need one," John continued, his voice softening now, but still emphatic enough to make his point unmistakeably clear. "I already have the best there is, one that covers my six better than anyone else I've ever known. And I need you _here_, Evan. I can't run this base without you."

It took several seconds to get there, but Evan's face finally broke into a grateful, and genuine smile – a nod of conceding agreement met with a broad grin, and some gentle teasing that both of them needed.

"So, guilt trip over? Or do we need to hit the crash mats?"

Guessing where this was heading, and more than happy to play along, Evan shrugged his shoulders.

"No, sir, we're… yeah, we're good."

"Good," John nodded aprrovingly, the grin growing to its full, devilish strength through the irresistible follow up. "'cos I was just about to order you to get down and give me twenty."

Pulling a suitable face in response, Evan's eyes still twinkled as he glanced back into the mess hall.

"Oh, I think I can do something better than that, sir."

Following him inside, John Sheppard grinned too, _very_ happily, as he guessed what he was up to. If that grin on Evan Lorne's face was anything to go by, it promised to be _much_ better than press-ups.

04:00. Another hour yet before the mess hall's usual staff came in to start the first run of breakfasts. But today, Evan Lorne had hit their kitchens first. And, John Sheppard knew, not for the first time. He'd overhead Coughlin the previous week, and on several other occasions too, enthusing about it – quietly envious that, when missions went well, the members of SGA2 enjoyed a _very_ special reward.

Now he'd get to enjoy itt. And while he preferred his eggs sunny side up to scrambled, and fried bacon over grilled – well, as he watched this feast of a breakfast take shape, John wasn't about to churlishly complain. For one thing, he was hungry. What they served up in the Infirmary could _never_ be described as food.

More seriously, he was watching Lorne's movements as he worked. Reading his body language. Absorbed in something that he clearly loved, the last traces of tension in his body were ebbing away. So if he wanted to salve his conscience by making his CO's breakfast, that was fine with him.

And a few words of appreciation wouldn't hurt either, especially if it earned him extra rations.

"You know, I could get used to this… eating food I can actually recognize," John said at last, snagging a piece of bacon from the grill, and so missing the smile that had settled on Evan's face. "No more waiting in line, either, and… damn, this is _great_! Where did you learn to cook?"

"Oh, you know, sir… here and there," Evan shrugged, taking two plates down from their shelf – thinking for a moment, until his sense of obligation overruled his stronger sense of modesty. You didn't rebuild broken bridges, he dryly reflected, by leaving them unfinished.

"It started when I was a kid, just watching my mom. She was a great cook," he explained – resisting the urge to slap John's hand as another piece of bacon found its way into his mouth.

Turning the rest before any more could disappear, he took it down from the grill and shared it out – meeting his CO's appreciative eyes with a modest shrug as they carried their plates to a nearby table.

"Yeah, it's come in handy, sir… especially when I went off world with SG1," he grinned, shaking his head at the memory of his first mission with its legendary, and irascible leader. "You should have seen what I MacGyvered out of our field rations."

"I bet General O'Neill loved you for that," John grinned through a mouthful of egg-laden toast – closing his eyes to fully its pleasure, then reopening them, to favour his XO with a wounded glare.

"Hey, how come you've never done that for _me_?"

Knowing better than to take that glare too seriously, Evan returned it with equally deadpan innocence

"You've never asked, sir."

Was there the remotest chance that his CO would leave it there? Oh, like hell there was. And this time, just to make sure he got the point, a loaded fork waved subtly in front of his face.

"Well, _next_ time we go off world, _you_'_re_ in charge of the cooking. _That_'_s _an order."

Left with little choice, Evan just smiled back and nodded, before he glanced instinctively outside – a smile of real pleasure spreading over his face, in anticipation for his favourite part of the day.

"It's gonna be a great sunrise," he said at last, already captivated by streaks of golden colours.

As John proudly noted, the artist in him was already capturing those colours in his mind – the pleasure in his eyes too obvious, and even more significant, for his commanding officer to ignore.

"Yeah, but we'll enjoy it more outside," John agreed, picking up their trays as he rose from his seat, and smiling even more when Evan fell into instant step beside him, bringing their chairs for extra comfort.

Settling into them, both fell silent, happy just to enjoy the breathtaking beauty in front of them. And for John Sheppard, there was the additional pleasure of the calmness he felt beside him – the familiar, relaxed contentment of a once troubled friend who'd now found peace with himself.

Once haunted eyes were clear and calm, as they always had been. Better still, Evan's sketchpad was open again, propped on his lap.

Still watching him, John felt his smile widen as he, too, raised his feet to rest on the balcony rail. Moments like this were few and far between. When they came, you made the most of them. So until they were called to action again, they'd just sit here quietly, enjoying this breathtaking sunrise.

The best part, though, came the next morning, when he arrived in his office to tackle a hated chore – stacks of latest paperwork gratefully forgotten in favour of the envelope that rested on to of it.

Knowing what was inside it, he cut through one of its ends with more care, and caution, than usual, then stared, in pure delight, when the perfectly named "Perfect Morning" finally came into view. Beyond a foreground of casually crossed feet, the city shone against a glowing, sun-lit sky.

It was the note tucked into it, though, that made him smile, for the priceless gratitude that it so simply conveyed.

"If only more mornings could be like this… thanks for sharing it with me, and for everything else… EL."

Still smiling, John placed its beautifully crafted reminder on his desk, then settled into his chair – the task ahead of him eased considerably by the thought that it was going to be a good, no, _perfect_, day.


End file.
